


Cast on

by jamie55



Series: I knit you [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee Shop, Fluff, Gen, It's all fluff, Knitting, M/M, Sam Ships It, and dean likes to stare, cas likes to knit, idk if that counts as a coffee shop au, knitting in a coffee shop, none of the main characters work in the coffee shop, sam is lawyer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 01:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6174937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamie55/pseuds/jamie55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's coffee, staring - soulful meaningful staring - and bright yellow yarn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cast on

Dean could not take his eyes off the knitter in the coffee shop. It was ridiculous. There, in the dark and used lazyboy recliner (who lacked reclining functions) was a grown man, dark hair and nimble fingers: knitting.

“Do people still even do that? Didn’t it die off in the 1920s or something?” 

Sam looked up from his paperwork. “Huh?”

“That guy over there,” Dean said, dropping his eyes and turning away, “he’s knitting.”

Sam frowned and turned his head, nodding when he spotted the stranger. “Yeah.” He turned back to Dean, expectantly, “What’s your point?”

Dean shook his head, “who does that?”

“He does.” Sam sighed and looked back down as Dean continued to stare at the knitter.

“And it’s so bright.”

“What is?”

“The strings-”

“Yarn.”

“What?”

“It’s called yarn.”

“Whatever. Yarn. Like your a big expert.”

“I know what yarn is.”

“Shut up.”

Sam smirked and cleared his throat, “Alright, I’m gonna head out.”

“Already?”

“Yeah well, I need my laptop to do the needed changes. Can’t sign anything ‘til then…” He tapped his folder, rueful of it’s future intent. “Besides,” he sighed getting up, “I don’t think you’ll be much more use.”

“Hey.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“Text me later, k!” 

Sam waves him off, walking to the door and-

Sam stops and turns. Sam is.. Sam walks to the stranger knitting with bright yellow yarn.

Dean blinks in alert. But not panic. Dean will not panic because-

Sam stands in front of the stranger. He smiles and says hi. The knitter looks up, and… listens. Politely listens as Sam says something. And Dean is not panicking.

Sam turns and points to Dean.

Dean does not panic. He doesn’t. Because instead his entire being goes on red alert and it’s such a monumental shift from his previous calm state that his neural network decides to short circuit and freeze.

When he blinks next Sam has left and the stranger is looking at him. Dean looks back (how could he not?) and the man tilts his head ever so slightly.

It should look dumb - what with the bright yellow yarn still being held and the deadpan expression holding such a childish gesture - but Dean feels his lips curl up.

The man frowns back and - okay that’s probably not good.

Dean looks away, ears burning up as fast as his stupid hope and his spirit falls. 

He’s still cursing himself when he hears the chair squeak. There, hand frozen in mid-motion, the knitting man is looking at him like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

They stare at each other a bit longer

That’s probably good. Except that the man’s seems stuck - halfway through a thought he can’t quite remember

“Did you uh, wanna sit?” Dean asks.

“Yes,” he said pulling out the chair and sitting, “that would be preferable.”

“Of course,” Dean nodded - not-awkwardly and smirked only a little. “Uh, I’m Dean.”

“Yes, you are.” The man said, staring still. 

“And you are?”

“Oh, uh I’m-” he cleared his throat, “I’m the one who will grip you tight and raise you from perdition.”

Dean opened his mouth and then frowned. “What?”

The man raised his long knitting things and yarn, tucked away in a plastic bag. Dean eyed it, frowning still.

“Right. Thanks for that.”

The man grinned and nodded, as if that explained everything. And Dean really wanted to disagree but his dared not disagree with such a smile.

“I meant what’s your name.”

“Castiel Novak.”

“Castiel. Well, hi. My name’s Dean Winchester. I said that already,” he chuckled.

“Yes. Hello Dean.”

“Hello.”

They stare some more. It’s easy and warm and as comfortable as his favourite shirt, on a cool summer’s night, tucking himself into bed next to a warm body, a kind smile, a pair of blu-

“Shall we get started?” Castiel’s eyes broke away, looking down at his yarn nd needles, and taking some of it out.

Dean blinks. “Started what now?” 

“Your brother informed me you were having difficulties learning how to knit and desired my help to pull you out of a knitter’s hell.” Castiel looked up, “is that… not so?”

“No, I mean yes. Yes, yes yes. I need you, I mean I mean you to help me. With the thing, needing- knitting. Thing.”

Castiel smiled. “Do you have your knitting needles with you?”

“Uh, nope. They’re at- they’re back at my place.”

Castiel nodded and pulled his chair forward, closer and closer. “I’ll show you.” Dean could smell him. “How far have you gotten?”

“Huh?”

“Do you know how to purl?”

“I thought we were knitting.”

Cas turned and looked at him.

“This may require multiple lessons.”

  


  


  


**Author's Note:**

> There is a chance this will get updated but i cannot guarantee. I know I'm awful. Sorry but I ain't got a plot - I just wanted to write something and I've been knitting a thing all day so... VOILA. I will probably continue this...


End file.
